


A Real Party

by author_abz



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drinking, F/M, Post-Finale, Romance, Swearing, Titanic (the movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1799260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/author_abz/pseuds/author_abz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Just so you know – I judge people on how they watch Titanic.' Amy yawns."</p><p>A casual night in front of the TV makes Amy confront what she's been avoiding - costing her a boyfriend, a whole box of tissues, and half a bottle of tequila.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Real Party

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe I am the first person to write/post this story. The story was staring me in the face. Also I love Titanic and doesn't everyone? Amy totally would, and in good spirits would probably rattle off interesting facts about Picasso when Rose puts her paintings away. ANYWAY.
> 
> Title is obviously from the movie Titanic. "Wanna go to a real party?"
> 
> Any and all mistakes are mine. I apologize if it's not up to my usual standard, but I was mainly focused on getting it done. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Amy plops down onto the couch next to Teddy, happy to relax and forget her day by watching mindless TV with her boyfriend. She lets him click through the channels, curling up to his side and under a blanket. He stops on Kate Winslet’s face and she hears, “my whole life, as if I had already lived it.”

“Just so you know – I judge people on how they watch Titanic.” Amy yawns, turning to him, “Are you ready?”

Teddy just smiles in response, putting the remote control down and settling down next to her. He’s still smiling when Amy’s first tear slips out – Rose attempting to commit suicide, and then Jack talking her down always gets to her. She jumps (every goddamn time, she can’t help it) when she slips, and Teddy dutifully takes her hand and gives it a tight squeeze.

He lets go when she’s safe and explaining what happened, but Amy still feels uncomfortable. It’s been a while since the last time she’s watched the movie all the way through (she usually catches it on TV when the ship is already sinking) so even when Rose is walking around with Jack the next day, Amy’s overwhelmed by the everyday sexism of her life.

“I’ve always liked Molly Brown. Even though it’s weird she has one her sons’ suits with her. Isn’t that weird?”

“What? No. Teddy, that’s not weird at all.” He raises his eyebrows at her, and she adds, “Having a suit with her, not loving Molly Brown. Everyone loves the Unsinkable Molly Brown.”

“Good.”

There’s a comfortable silence all during the dinner scene, and Amy feels a rush of excitement when they meet at the clock. She really sees herself in Rose – a straight-laced woman letting go and demonstrating that she can drink a lot and have fun, too. She just needed someone to push her in the right direction, someone asking her to dance. But when Rose and Jack start dancing in circles together, Amy’s spirits come crashing down; her stomach drops to what feels like her knees and her eyes start to tear up.

“Stop.”

“What?”

She bolts up off the couch. “Stop, turn it off. I can’t do this.”

“Do what? Amy, what’s going on?” Teddy stands up, following her with a calm voice and steady hands.

“I can’t pretend this is okay, I can’t pretend that we’re okay. We’re not okay because I’m not okay. I’ve been lying to you like I’ve been lying to myself.” She takes a deep breath and looks straight at him. “We can’t go out anymore. I’m sorry, Teddy.”

She rushes out the door and doesn’t realize where she’s going or doing until she’s fumbling with her keys at her door (thank goodness she remembered her purse) and then with a half-gone bottle of tequila from her cabinet as she plops down on her couch.

Amy’s trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks while she’s holding the bottle with one hand and a glass with the other. She downs the shot and realizes she has to finish the movie, otherwise she would’ve gone to a bar instead of her couch. She doesn’t think about it before she grabs two bottles of water, a box of tissues, her pillow, a comfortable quilt, and the DVD, popping it into her player and collapsing into a ball.

She skips ahead to the steerage party, and her tears flow freely as she thinks about not just Jake and his ridiculous, stupid date, but when her brain latches onto the tragedy of a young girl brought up in finishing school and ballet just to snag a husband.

The party scene gives her a few minutes to cry about missing Jake and not realizing her feelings soon enough, but she manages to stop crying before she yells at her TV about the real danger of marital rape before she takes another shot, Rose sobbing on the floor.

Amy lets herself feel bad as she gets into the movie, torn between letting herself wallow in comparing Jake with Jack, (even their names are similar! _Why?_ ) comparing herself with Rose, comparing their relationships, and letting herself just wallow in the movie. She ends up watching the movie, alternating between her tequila, tissues, and eventually large swallows of water – because she knows she doesn’t want to die of alcohol poisoning.

She yells at her TV in half-formed sentences about “fucking classism – fucking racism! They can’t – they’re gonna die!” through her sobs. A few times her tears get so thick she has to pause and let herself walk around to take a drink of water, telling herself, “I would – my life, for his” before crying silently and pressing play. Her pillow grows a huge wet spot from her tears as the Irish woman tucks her children in bed, and hundreds of people accept their fate.

Amy’s adding tissues to her pile on the floor more frequently than she’s taking even half-shots once the life-boats rally and look for survivors, and she feels almost normal when it’s back to present-day. At least, a normal-terrible, one she can pretend isn’t there when she needs to, not the hysterical mess she’s been for the last three hours. Rose and Jack kiss at the clock, and Amy allows herself one last shot before she turns off her TV.

Even though she wants to fall straight into bed, she stays awake long enough to throw away her mound of tissues, put her living room back in order, her nearly empty Tequila bottle in the sink, and manages to drink a whole glass of water. Amy’s accepted she’s going to feel terrible for a while, and she doesn’t want a miserable standard of cleanliness around to make her feel even worse. She goes to bed knowing that it could be worse, even though she feels like there couldn’t be anything worse than how she feels now.

* * *

 

Amy walks into the precinct the next morning almost late wearing sunglasses and a mismatched pair of shoes. She bypasses her desk entirely, sitting down in the briefing room and immediately putting her head down.

Rosa walks in behind her, slamming a stack of files down next to her head, a smirk on her face. “What’s up, Santiago?”

“Die, Diaz.”

“Sure, after you tell me what’s up.”

“I’ve got the world’s worst hangover and I hate you.”

Even without looking at her, she can tell she’s got Rosa’s interest. “Hangover? What’s the occasion?”

She peeks her out from between her arms to look at Rosa sitting on the table beside her, answering quietly. “I broke up with Teddy, and Titanic is the most depressing movie on the planet.”

They make eye contact, and Amy’s pretty sure Rosa knows that she’s not hung up on Teddy or severely put out by a sad movie. Rosa nods and takes a seat in front of her as the Sergeant and Captain Holt walk in, addressing the group as a whole.

Amy burrows her head even farther into her arms and wills her brain to work against the throbbing of her headache. She also tells herself that her head in her arms is as long as she’s got – no one else can assume what she’s really upset about, very few people can know that she’s hungover, and if anyone suspects, she’ll use her breakup as an excuse. It took her almost half a bottle of tequila and a night of sobbing to come to terms with how she feels about Jake. She doesn’t want to think about when she’ll need to admit to it, or worse, tell people about it.

Right now Amy Santiago is thinking about two things: how to stop her pounding headache, and trying to remember that Rose’s life went on – and so can hers.

**Author's Note:**

> So... if you watch Titanic without taking in all of the historical surroundings and how many details are in the film - even just extras and things that the characters walk by and how everything is set up and even just their clothing? You're missing a LOT. I highly suggest viewing it while keeping in mind things like class difference, sexism, racism, and all sorts of other privilege. 
> 
> Also, I took a bit of liberty with Amy's characterization and used a little bit of me - because the last time I watched Titanic (right before I started writing this) I did literally have to stop a few times so I could walk around and cry, and I also would probably take many many shots given the circumstance.
> 
> Lastly - I wasn't really aware of the parallel I'd be drawing between Rose/Amy, Jack/Jake, and the relationships until I had already started writing, and it turns out they're really strong! So that's kind of how that particular ending got in there, because it's reassuring, and the great thing about Titanic is that Rose goes off and does her own thing and lives a full life by herself - and while Jake is not dead like Jack, the point is still that he might be killed, that Amy might have to go on without him, and even if he doesn't die, there's still a long time where she will go on without him before his assignment is over. But honestly - it's kind of a cornerstone of the current predicament Amy's in right now, because the only reason Jake even had the guts to tell her was because he might not come back. His/her mortality is integral to why him leaving on an awesome mission is so depressing. 
> 
> But most of you probably already knew that.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and thanks for letting me ramble on. :)


End file.
